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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689590">i can hear the echoes of the past</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalscully/pseuds/fullmetalscully'>fullmetalscully</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/havocswife'>havocswife (orphan_account)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Blind!Roy, Canonical Character Death, Emotional Manipulation, HyuRoi, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Lust!Hughes, M/M, Manipulation, One-Sided Attraction, homunculus!hughes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:15:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,164</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24689590</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmetalscully/pseuds/fullmetalscully, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/havocswife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy had lost - traded - his vision, in exchange for this monster to wear Hughes’ skin</p><p>[<b>an illustrated fic]</b></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Maes Hughes/Roy Mustang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>47</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i can hear the echoes of the past</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>all the fantastic artwork has been created by the brilliant mind of hyuroiofficial on <a> tumblr </a> and <a> twitter </a></p><p>the fic was co-written by the both of us. it was an absolute joy to work together on this project! hope you enjoy it &lt;3</p><p>The fic title is a lyric from the song Haunted by Maya Kern.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>“Yo, Roy!”</p><p>Roy froze in place. His head whipped around of its own accord, trying to see where the voice was coming from, but it was a pointless search. His eyesight was gone and no matter how hard he <em>willed</em> himself to see, it would never happen.</p><p>But still… That jovial greeting. That voice… Roy <em>knew </em>it. </p><p>It was not the first time he thought he’d heard it. The voice was something that haunted his nearly every waking moment. With gritted teeth, Roy forced himself to continue forward.</p><p><em>It’s not real. Stop it!</em> His brain shouted, but it did nothing to stop his mind from conjuring the sound of the late Maes Hughes. Roy would scream and yell until he went mad with it, trying to rid himself of such a cruel trick. </p><p>There were times when the deep reverberation of Hughes’ imagined voice echoing through the confines of his skull reassured Roy, pushed him forward and fueled him, but now Roy became completely unsettled by it. The uncomfortable feeling coiled inside of his gut, threatening to crawl up his spine and arrest his movements completely.</p><p>“Ignoring me? Well, that’s just rude,” Hughes scoffed playfully.</p><p>“Shut up,” Roy muttered through his teeth. <em>Not real, not real, not real.</em> It was a mantra that sounded in time with the loud patter of his footsteps.</p><p>His body was viciously jerked to the side. Vicious for Roy, because of his blindness. Being beyond the gate had seen to that. His cane dropped from his grasp in surprise, hitting the ground with a loud clatter. Instinctively he reached for his pocket to get his gloves, but a hand quickly batted it away.</p><p>Hughes tutted. “As if I didn’t expect a move like that,” he chuckled. “I’ve known you too long, Roy.”</p><p>This was <em>not</em> Maes Hughes. He was <em>dead</em> - </p><p>“Wh - What?” Roy gasped in pain as the grip on his arm grew stronger. There was something sharp on his bicep, threatening to cut through his clothes with a heavy stinging pressure. It might have already sliced through. <em>If only I could see!</em></p><p>
  <em>  </em>
</p><p>Jerking his arm free from the grasp, Roy stumbled as the arm pushed him forward. It left him off balance and unaware of what direction he was facing. From the smell of damp and food waste, they could be in an alleyway. However, without his sight and after being thrown so off kilter by the sudden supposed appearance of his very dead friend, Roy was unable to determine where the exit was. He cursed his lack of attention to his surroundings. He used to be a military man, his lack of sight leading to his early retirement. The military had no use for a dog that couldn’t see. But with Roy’s past military experience he shouldn’t have been reduced to such useless stature, regardless of who was in front of him and no matter how much they used to mean to Roy.</p><p>“Hey.” Roy could almost picture the grin on this person’s face. It was evident in their light, flirty tone.</p><p>“What do you want?” Roy growled. He wouldn’t have someone trying to cruelly trick him into thinking his best friend, his… <em>They had been so much more than best friends at one point… </em>The memories of what had been - what could have been if they’d only allowed it to blossom further - flooded Roy. It weaved through his ribs like ivy and strangled the oxygen from his lungs, leaving him suddenly breathless. </p><p>“It’s me, Hughes!”</p><p>Roy froze again, stricken with the pain that name gave him. He was foolish to think he could hear Hughes’ name without experiencing agony. <em>No, keep it together!</em></p><p>“Just wanted to stop by and see how you’re doing.”</p><p>“Maes Hughes is dead,” Roy replied, forcing a deadly calm to take over his entire being. Just underneath the surface of his skin, anger was beginning to bubble. His fury was a fiery thing, like the flames of his alchemy, as it hotly licked through his veins. How <em>dare</em> this person try to impersonate Hughes -</p><p>Roy grunted as his back hit something solid and hard, the air temporarily knocked out of him with the shock of it. A hand gripped his hip, but not painfully, nearly gentle, yet in a mocking fashion. A thumb slipped underneath his suit jacket, caressing Roy’s skin softly through his white shirt. Roy shivered despite himself. The other hand tangled in Roy’s hair as he voiced a protest, only for it to be swallowed by wanton lips. Teeth nipped at Roy’s bottom lip and he groaned.</p><p>
  
</p><p><em>He knew that mouth. </em>The kiss was all too reminiscent of something that had been precious to Roy, no matter how short lived that something had been. </p><p>“Now are you convinced?” Hughes murmured quietly. Roy shook as Hughes’ hand caressed the skin of his jaw, crawling slowly up to tangle in Roy’s hair. But… The nails were sharp. They dug into his scalp with a whisper - with a threat - of pain. Yet where Hughes’ touch had always been kind, this touch taunted him, bordering on cruelty. “Humans have been known to say they always remember a touch of a lover.” </p><p>
  <em>Maes Hughes is dead. You were at his funeral.</em>
</p><p>Roy shoved the man off and away from him, wiping the back of his hand over his swollen lips. The teeth that had nipped at him had not been kind. In the spur of the moment, the remembrance of his past lover’s touch, Roy had been lost to it. Now, his lips stung.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Wh… What are you?” Roy whispered. He cursed his inability to see. He needed to verify what was happening with his own eyes. Despite his distrust, hope was building in his chest, a fruitless thing. Feelings that had long lain dormant were beginning to rebloom, like a flower in spring.</p><p>“It’s me, Roy. It’s Maes.” Hughes pleaded all false promises. </p><p>Roy shook his head. “He’s dead. He died. I was at the funeral. I tried…” Bile stopped him from talking further, bitter and thick on his tongue. The guilt and the shame of what he’d done haunting him.</p><p>“I know you attempted the transmutation,” Hughes replied. Roy heard him step closer and his body tensed, every muscle pulled taunt with encroaching panic.</p><p>He had to attempt it, his grief had been too palatable, a world without Hughes too heavy a burden to bear. The loss of Hughes had consumed him, pushed him, and left Roy recollecting everything he’d learned on human transmutation years ago to finally put it into action. </p><p>“And I know it failed. Or could it be considered a failure, if I’m here now? Regardless, it’s all because of you, so thank you. And…” Roy knew that sickening smirk was back. “I  thought I’d show you it was really me.” Hughes’ voice was low and soft, a nearly inaudible whisper that left Roy leaning nearer. Almost like it had been when they shared tangled limbs, lips, and breaths back in academy…</p><p>They’d never had much more than that, nothing more than youthful foolish passion. Or so Roy told himself. But it didn’t stop the feelings he held for Hughes from developing further. Nothing could stop that. Nothing could stop the way his heart beat hard against his ribcage every time Maes Hughes smiled at him or slung a muscular arm across Roy’s shoulder. Or when Hughes was so close Roy could smell the coffee on his breath. They were feelings Roy forced himself to swallow. They would not further his goal and would only torment him. </p><p>He was unsure if Hughes knew of his feelings for him and how deeply they were rooted. Obviously, Hughes had made his choice and he’d married Gracia. Roy respected that and would support his decision completely, because Hughes’ happiness was of the utmost importance. But it didn’t stop Roy from loving him, from aching and yearning alone at night, a once full bottle of whisky in his weakened grasp. Anything Roy could get, whether it was friendship or simply being an acquaintance due to their past, Roy would take, would eagerly devour.  He was always thankful Hughes had decided to keep him in his life.</p><p>“I can’t trust that… Or you,” Roy admitted in a whisper.</p><p>“I know you can’t,” Hughes replied casually. It sounded like he shrugged. “But it was a nice way to try to convince you. Probably the best way, actually, seeing as you were about to set me alight.”</p><p>Roy’s blood ran cold at the reminder. That simmering anger was making itself known again, spilling forth into the forefront of his mind. It coursed through him quickly, almost leaving him breathless. A reminder that this can’t be real. Not in the way he wanted it to be. Not in the way his alcohol riddled brain dreamed of.</p><p>He’d never seen his failed transmutation. He couldn’t after what the gate took from him. Hawkeye had cleared it away for him. She told him what it was like and that grotesque image he’d created from her description would be burned into his mind for the rest of his days. Another horror added to the long list of those he’d cultivated already.</p><p><em>You tried the transmutation. Maes Hughes is <strong>dead</strong></em>.</p><p>“You’re not real,” Roy muttered, shaking his head, resolute in his denial. Hughes sighed heavily. “What have you done -?” Roy growled.</p><p>“Jeez, Roy. <em>I </em>haven’t done anything. It’s me. Hughes. Well,” he added the smug tone returning to the conversation. Roy’s nauseous stomach rolled with it. “Not exactly. And I prefer the name Lust now. It’s got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”</p><p>“What?” Roy paled.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Yeah, I like it! Okay, maybe this will convince you. In the academy, we used to sneak away to the guard tower and kiss until we couldn’t breathe anymore.” His voice grew closer, like he was approaching slowly.</p><p>
  <em>Or like a lion stalking its prey. </em>
</p><p>If it were possible, Roy paled further, suddenly cold. He remembered it clearly and always would, in the way the memories were just as much a blessing as a curse. The feel of Hughes’ calloused palms framing his face, the adrenaline that coursed through Roy’s veins at the thought of getting caught. They’d been young and reckless, eighteen, hidden away in the empty tower as moonlight painted their skin silver. </p><p>“Hughes was very aware of your feelings for him, but downplayed it. Then, he met and married his wife.” If Roy hadn’t been shaking, he would have smacked the smirk off this thing’s face. “He left you behind, choosing her over you. But he never forgot. He kept you in his life, kept you close, just to see if you’d ever snap. He knew you wanted to.” Hughes’ voice dropped low. Dangerously so. Roy’s breath hitched when he felt Hughes’ hot words ghost over the skin of his face. “He always admired your self control,” Hughes chuckled.</p><p>“That’s a lie. You’re not Hughes,” Roy whispered, sweat collecting anxiously at the nape of his neck. Hughes would never be so manipulative or callous towards him. Yet still it pained Roy to hear. </p><p>“In a way… No, I guess I’m not. But I’m so much better.” He said violently, the smirk reappearing in his tone.</p><p>“Lieutenant Colonel… Hughes?”</p><p>Roy stiffened. The voice came from behind him. It sounded so frightened, so shocked.</p><p><em>Edward and Alphonse</em>.</p><p>Roy had been so distracted he hadn’t heard the boys approach. </p><p>“Hey, kids,” Hughes greeted.</p><p>“Wh…” The clank of metal shifting signalled Al’s armored steps. He stopped dead in his tracks a few feet away. Roy didn’t blame him. If Roy could see Hughes, he would have had the same reaction. But Roy had lost - traded - his vision, in exchange for this <em>monster</em> to wear Hughes’ skin.</p><p>“What are you?” Edward barked, immediately on the defensive.</p><p>“Ed?” Alphonse asked quietly. Surprise still laced his tone as he tried to recover from his shock.</p><p>“Look at his clothes, Al. And that tattoo. What are you doing?” Ed repeated, raising his voice to call over to Hughes.</p><p>“I think you can guess. I imagine you already know,” Hughes replied, his tone full of smug cruelty.</p><p>“Mustang, get away from him. Please!” Alphonse begged.</p><p>It made sense they’d connected the dots right away. Hughes must be wearing the homunculus’ style of clothing. And the tattoo… Roy’s stomach flipped, sickeningly. He swallowed hard against it. He hadn’t even thought about a damn tattoo.</p><p>“That’s not Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” Edward snarled. “And how dare you use his face!”</p><p>Heavy footsteps rushed forwards, approaching at a rapid pace. Edward was charging, ready to fight, but Roy seized up with one thought alone inside his head. <em>That can’t happen</em>.</p><p>Roy reached out frantically, and miraculously, his arms snaked around Edward’s torso. He gripped hard, as if all their lives depend on it - and maybe they did.  Roy stopped the teenager from getting any closer. A part of him, the largest part, had his instincts screaming at him to protect Edward. Without his sight Roy couldn’t fully assess the risk Hughes’ posed, but Roy deemed him dangerous enough. His heart wanted to believe Hughes would never harm Ed or him, however his head won out. And Roy may not be the boy’s commanding officer anymore, but he would still protect Edward as best he could.</p><p>
  
</p><p>A smaller, more vulnerable part of him, that swelled within the cavity of his chest and was ruled by the pulse of his heart, told Roy not to let anyone harm Hughes. It was Hughes’ voice he’d heard. It was Hughes’ touch that had graced Roy’s skin, regardless of the hint of cruelty that had been there… Roy recognised it and he wouldn’t let anyone hurt Hughes. Not after he’d just been returned to Roy. Losing Hughes a second time was a weight that Roy wasn’t sure he could carry. </p><p>Edward fought, and fought hard, swearing and pushing with his efforts to escape Roy’s grasp, but Roy’s grip was ironclad. He wouldn’t let go. He wouldn’t let Hughes’ hurt Edward and in turn, he wouldn’t let Ed hurt Hughes. </p><p>“Brother, calm down -!” Al peeped, metallic and echoing in his armored suit. </p><p>The thunder of two gunshots sounded. Roy’s body tensed, expecting a blow, but none came. Quick steps moved towards him, causing Roy to grip onto Edward tighter. Whatever new threat had arrived, Roy would do his best to protect the boys.</p><p>“I’ll be back to see you soon, <em>Roy</em>.” The emphasis Hughes made on his name caused Roy to shudder, a steady set of tremors travelling down his spine. Not in anticipation, but in fear. It was foreboding. So unlike the Maes Hughes he once knew.</p><p>In the group’s startled moment, Hughes took advantage and darted off. Roy, unable to watch him disappear, listened to the sound of his shoes dissipate down the alley until there was no sound at all. His heart sunk to the pit of his gut. The floor collapsing beneath his feet. </p><p>The following silence was all encompassing as Edward stopped struggling. The fight had gone from him so Roy loosened his grip. Roy’s knees shook and he felt himself falling steadily to the ground. He landed with a <em>thud</em>, but there was no pain. Only disbelief as it caused his limbs to shake. His palms were sweating against the legs of his slacks while gripping his thighs in an attempt to quell his trembles.</p><p>“That… That was... Lieutenant Colonel Hughes…” Alphonse whispered from behind him.</p><p>The sound of heavy footsteps approached, but Roy barely registered it, too lost in his clouded haze of sorrow and shock. </p><p>“Is… Is that how you really lost your eyesight?” Edward asked. Then his tone turned hard and unforgiving. “Is it?” he growled.</p><p>Roy didn’t reply, didn't need to, his sins so very apparent. Even if Hughes never held him again, never kissed Roy’s lips or professed his love again, Roy’s motivations behind his transmutation were simple. Roy just wanted to see his friend - the one that held his heart always - smile at him again. However, because of his efforts, he'd never see again.</p><p>“What did you <em>do</em>?” Edward shouted, suddenly very close to Roy’s face, breath hot and angry.</p><p>
  
</p><p>It was ironic, Roy thought, that Edward should face him with such fury - a fury Roy felt deserving of - for if anyone could understand Roy’s drive to see a loved one again, it would be Edward. But perhaps it was that understanding that left young Edward so shaken. </p><p>“Edward.” The bark was short and sharp, a warning. Roy would recognise it anywhere. The new voice explained the sudden gunshots perfectly. In the heat of the moment, and with the fear of Hughes’ warning, Roy forgot that had happened.</p><p>Suddenly, gentle hands were on him, guiding him to stand.</p><p>
  
</p><p>“On your feet, Mustang,” Hawkeye commanded. Her tone was soft so it didn’t jarr him too roughly back to reality. “Here,” Hawkeye murmured. The familiar shape of his cane was pressed into Roy’s shaking hands. He gripped it tightly, the certainty of it a reassuring thing even as his fingers quivered around it.</p><p>“Th - Thank you, Hawkeye.”</p><p>"What was that, Sir?" He wasn't her superior anymore, but old habits die hard, Roy supposed.</p><p>"It was <em>him</em>."</p><p>"<em>Who?</em>" Riza urged. She was on edge. Roy heard it in the swiftness of her question.</p><p>Roy paled, finally admitting it for the first time to himself. The reality of what he’d done - what he created - was crushing. "Maes Hughes."</p><p>No one spoke. Silence fell as Roy tried to get his breathing under control. The only sound in the small alley was the desperate gasps of his inhales and frantic wheeze of his exhales. </p><p>“All right, Sir,” Hawkeye agreed quietly, and he was grateful for her continued kindness and support despite his faults. She was his best friend and Roy owed her, for so many things, for not refuting him, for allowing him, no matter how false, the image of Maes Hughes he clung to. She grasped his arm carefully, tugging him forward, encouraging him to walk. “Let’s get back to the car.”</p><p>Roy knew from the tone of her voice she didn’t quite believe him, but she didn't argue. Not yet, and Roy didn’t blame her. Hell, he wouldn’t have believed it either, if it weren’t for the press of Hughes’ eager lips against his own and the deep rumble of Hughes’ voice through his chest. They were familiar things, even if now they haunted him and stained him with fear and uncertainty. Roy wasn’t ready to let the frightening comfort of their familiarity go yet. They branded him - consumed him - and he allowed it. Even as his common sense returned and his heart rate slowed, he was struggling to accept everything.</p><p>Roy was glad Hawkeye was giving him this small solace. For now, anyway. Because as Maes Hughes had spoken - threatened - he’d be back again soon. </p><p>And Roy would be waiting.</p>
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